


Three Songs

by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: picfor1000, Far too soppy, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden/pseuds/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you keep in touch when one of you has to go away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Songs

Greg held him fiercely as they both breathed deeply in the aftermath and for a few moments John returned the tight hold before he began to stir,

“It’ll be OK you know, seriously, I’ll be gone for two weeks tops and I’ll be safe, way back from the front line.” John knew he’d made a mistake as Greg tightened his hold on him at the words ‘front line’. John returned the pressure before his hand moved up to stroke Greg’s face, “really, love, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

Greg sighed,

“I know.”

He doesn’t sound convinced.

“Seriously, Greg, don’t worry,”

“You forget how many times I’ve used that line myself,” Greg responded with a slightly lopsided grin, “you can’t kid a kidder, Watson.”

“No, but it was worth a try.”

 

When John got settled on the transport he reached into his flight bag and pulled out the package that Greg stuffed in there at the last moment. Opening it he found an iPod. He turned it over in his hand, expecting on some levels that it would be engraved; it wasn’t. He switched it on and slid the slide and saw a page of text:

John,

First, I love you, every day I tell you not to worry about me, my job can be dangerous, but now when you tell me not to worry I realise what a stupid thing it is I’ve been saying these months.

Second, I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you every moment of every day until you’re back in my arms.

Third, on this player are the songs that most remind me of you. I have one exactly the same. By my working when it’s midnight where you will be it will be 7:30 here. At 7:30 each night I’ll listen to one track, we’ll know that we are thinking of each other.

Fourth, come home safe, you are my other half; I’m only half a person without you,

Greg.

 

00:00 Kabul Time – Day One – Mad About the Boy

John had carefully not looked at what was on the playlist that Greg has left him and when the trumpet introduction for the song started he closed his eyes and squirmed on his cot until he was as comfortable as he could manage. He knew or at least he thought he knew why Greg has selected this song, they talked about it one night,

“It perfectly captures that feeling, at the start of a thing, when the other person is all you can think about. It’s just perfect.” There was a long pause, almost tense, with Greg staring down at his knee, at their entwined hands, before he spoke again, “It’s how I felt about you when we first met.” With that he looked up at John and John could see that he was about to make a joke of it all and he didn’t think he could stand that,

“Don’t,” was all that he could manage, and he knew in a second that Greg had misunderstood him and he scrabbled to clear his throat and speak quickly enough, “I meant don’t make a joke of it, just don’t. I felt, feel just like that,” he swallowed before continuing, “I love you.” It had been the first time he’d said it.

 

19:30 London Time – Day Five – We have all the time in the World

It had been a rush to get home in time for 7:30 but Greg was determined, his team knew that he wanted to be away on time even if they didn’t know why and they’d done their best for him and he’d got home with five minutes to spare. As the introduction to the song began Greg closed his eyes, his mind drifting as he knew John’s was to the time when he’d said those words,

“We have all the time in the world, John, don’t worry about it.”

John sighed in exasperation at himself and sat forward, hugging his knees, head down, and Greg could see that he was blushing,

“Seriously, John, it doesn’t matter,” he continued, sitting up and putting his arm round John’s shoulder. 

When John spoke, his head still down his voice was slightly muffled, but Greg could hear the distress in his voice,

“It’s honestly not that I don’t want to, or that I don’t want you, I don’t know what it is, I’m sorry.”

Greg reached out his other hand and cupped John’s cheek, gently making him look up to meet his eyes,

“I know, love. This is a big upheaval for you, I mean what I said, we have all the time we need. I’m with you, I’ll be happy if we never go any further. It’s not about sex, we’re not filling in ‘The I-Spy Book of Being Gay’, it’s about us and here’s the great part, we get to make our own rules, whatever makes us happy.”

John’s eyes fluttered shut and Greg saw a fringe of tears on his eyelashes but before he could say anything John opened his eyes turning further so that he could kiss Greg.

 

23:55 Kabul Time – Day Twelve – Without You

For the last eighteen hours John had convinced himself that he’d stuffed the whole thing up but as the taxi drew up with five minutes to spare, he allowed himself one broad grin as he thrust a handful of notes at the driver and dragged his duffel bag out onto the pavement. Another minute was wasted as he dug for his keys but eventually he found them and let himself in. 

He knew that Greg would be upstairs, lying on their bed and he took the stairs quickly, shoving earphones roughly into his ears he went into the bedroom, pressing play at dead on 7.30. 

Greg sat up suddenly as John sat on the bed, his look of shock becoming one of joy,

“You don’t have to live without me,” John said with a grin,

“Oh, God, John, I’m so glad you’re home,” and then they were kissing.


End file.
